Harry Potter and the Ties that Bind
by The Engulfing Silence
Summary: Hermione's death has left scars on everyone. While Harry's friends pull together as a group, the young man responsible for bringing them together has descended into darkness. He begins following the path he'd thought he left behind. Will anyone be there to pull him out of his despair? Can anyone save him before he loses himself to his own heartache?
1. Missing

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor will I ever. It's owned by JK Rowling and Warner Bros. All I own is whatever AU information I shove in here and the voices in my head demanding I write.**

**Chapter 1: Missing**

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><p>Albus Dumbledore was tired. Exhausted. School had ended but the problems that had arisen from the past year hadn't. They piled up, higher and higher, problems compounding upon problems. It was getting so bad that Dumbledore rarely got any sleep these days. He must have stayed up at least three nights this past week.<p>

His problems all started with the opening of the Chamber of Secrets. Dumbledore, much like young Harry, had not believed the chamber to have truly been opened. His reasoning differed from the young Potter heir's, however.

After the incident that took place in Harry Potter's first year, Dumbledore had gone to great lengths to ensure Voldemort would not be able to pass through the wards, even if he used the magic signature of another to mask his own presence. So, he knew for a fact that the dark lord had not been at school this last year.

Voldemort was the only one who could open the Chamber of Secrets, to the best of Dumbledore's knowledge. There were no other heirs of Slytherin out there. Certainly none of his current students were capable of tracing their lineage back to Salazar. From the many hours he'd spent researching the chamber, Dumbledore came to the conclusion that only an heir to Slytherin, someone with Salazar's blood flowing through their veins could have opened the chamber. Without anyone meeting that criteria at Hogwarts, he had come to the conclusion that the chamber had not been opened and someone was using scare tactics to terrorize the students, though for what purpose remained unknown. Harry Potter's insight only confirmed what he'd already suspected.

Unfortunately, they had both been wrong. He didn't know how, but somehow, the Chamber of Secrets had indeed been opened. The situation had quickly devolved after this discovery had been made near the end of last year when Miss Granger had been killed and Miss Weasley taken into the chamber itself. Even now, he was still at a loss on how to explain what happened. The only clue he had was something young Ginerva Weasley had told him.

"_I… I had a diary. I found it in my book bag after our family went shopping at Flourish and Blotts. It, well, I-I wrote in it and it wrote back. The words they—it was like they just appeared on the page. The diary spoke to me. He—it called itself Tom, and he was so understanding and kind that I—well, he became like my best friend. And so I wrote in the diary all summer and into the school year. I didn't think there was anything wrong it, but over time I began blacking out. I'd be in my bedroom writing and the next minute I'd be wandering the halls. This one time I-I woke up with b-b-blood all over me and I couldn't remember—I didn't know how it happened! It kept getting worse and worse! I thought I was going mad and I—everything just became hazy after that. I tried throwing the diary away, because I thought it had something to do with this but—but—"_

Miss Weasley had become incoherent after that, but it had given him something to go on. The diary. Tom. Voldemort. The diary must have been something of Voldemort's, an enchanted diary that could unlock the Chamber of Secrets without his presence. Dumbledore hadn't missed the irony of that. He had been so sure that Harry was right, that he was right, that _they_ were right in thinking that the Chamber of Secrets was simply being used as a mask for someone to use a powerful dark artifact in order to terrorize the school.

In a way, they _were _right. Someone had used a dark artifact to terrorize the school. It just wasn't in the way they thought.

Hermione Granger's death and the opening of the chamber caused him a lot of problems and even more heartache, but then an even bigger problem had arrived on his doorstep. Harry Potter had gone missing. Minerva had been the first to notice that Harry was no longer in the castle. They had checked anyway, just to be on the safe side. It would not be hard for him to find a place to secrete himself, isolate himself from everyone else. Hogwarts was large, the grounds more so. It didn't matter in the end, Harry hadn't been found anywhere. Not in the castle. Not on the grounds. It was as if he'd disappeared.

That's when Dumbledore began to worry.

That worry only increased when he sent Severus to check up on the Dursley's. If Harry wasn't in the castle, logic dictated that he would be at his relatives. That had been his assumption, at least.

It turned out that Harry had been at the Dursley's residence, or someone had been there at some point in time. Severus had come back and told him that the Dursleys, all three of them, had their minds wiped clean of Harry Potter. Even Petunia Dursley. What's more, whoever had done the mind wipe had been thorough. Petunia remembered everything about the magical world. She remembered her sister, she remembered Severus, she remembered James Potter. However, she did not remember that James Potter and Lily Potter nee Evans had a son, or that their son had lived with her for around 12 years now. It was as if Harry Potter had vanished from the mind's of Petnunia, Vernon and Dudley. None of them ever remembered a Harry James Potter.

Slumping in his chair, the aging headmaster took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. They were getting sore. His vision, much like everything else, wasn't what it used to be.

A trill to his left made the old man look up. He gave a tired smile to Fawkes, his brilliant and beautiful Phoenix familiar. The ancient and powerful firebird sat upon his perch, staring at him with intelligent eyes. He trilled some more and images flooded Dumbledore's mind.

"Yes, I am fine, Fawkes. There is no need to worry."

Fawkes trilled again. This time he looked reproachful. Dumbledore grimaced.

"Yes, I suppose I am not being entirely truthful." Dumbledore's smile was just a tad bitter. "You always could see right through me, couldn't you, old friend?" The aging headmaster leaned back in his chair, his body weary and aching. How long had he been sitting here? Ten hours? Twelve?

A series of trills that sounded more like music than any known language came from Fawke's beak. Images filled Dumbledore's mind and a warmth spread through his chest, allowing the negative emotions fraying at the edges of his weary mind to be beaten back, if only temporarily.

"Thank you, Fawkes."

More trilling.

The wards flaring to life within his mind caused Dumbledore to snap out of his reverie. He straightened his posture and tried to present a strong image. It wouldn't do if those on the other side of the door knew how tired he felt.

"Come in, Minerva, Amelia."

There was a pause at the door before it opened. Minerva walked in, followed by Amelia. They moved over to stand in front of his desk.

"One day, Dumbledore, I am going to find out how you managed to know when someone is at your door and who it is."

Dumbledore gave Minerva a congenial smile. "Perhaps one day you shall find out, but not today, I'm afraid." His expression turning hopeful along with his mind, the headmaster turned to Amelia. "If you are here, does that mean you've found a lead on Harry's whereabouts?"

"I am afraid not." Dumbledore slumped. "I am here on other business."

"I see." He tried not to sigh. "In that case, I believe I should ask whether you are here as Amelia Bones or acting as the head of the DMLE?"

"I suppose you could say it's a bit of both," Amelia admitted. "Things are getting bad, Dumbledore. Have you read this morning's Daily Prophet?"

Dumbledore grimaced, his eyes instinctively flickering to a newspaper hidden underneath several documents. "I have."

"The public is going mad. Harry Potter missing? Everyone is frantic. People are demanding that we find him. The Minister's office, the DMLE, even the Department of International Cooperation has been flooded with letters." Amelia stared at Dumbledore, looking just as tired as he felt. "Things are getting out of hand."

"I am aware of that."

Dumbledore felt the ache in his bones return. With it came the regret, the second guessing. He should have been more attentive to what was happening in his school. He should have done more when the chamber had been opened. He could have avoided this disaster if he'd just been more thorough in his investigation.

Why was it that whenever a problem came around, he was useless to solve it? How much more failure would he have to shoulder? Hadn't his failure to stop his sister from dying, his best friend from falling, his inability to mend the wounds brother been enough? When would all this end?

"Dumbledore?"

"Yes, yes, I am here." Dumbledore waved a hand in the air. "I wish I could help you. I've currently got Severus, Filius and Hagrid searching for him in the mundane world. I have also asked everyone I know to keep an eye out for him and report to me should they see him." Dumbledore didn't mention that if Harry really was responsible for wiping out his relatives memories, chances were good no one would find him unless he wanted to be found.

Amelia frowned and raised an eyebrow at the same time. "Why the non-magical world?"

"Because if Harry was going to hide anywhere, it would be where nobody is searching for him," Dumbledore declared. "Harry Potter is a very logically thinking child. He knows that, beyond a few wizards trained specifically for the task of interacting with muggles, very few know how the mundane world works."

"The mundane world?" Amelia raised an eyebrow. "I see you have been talking to Mr. Potter before he… vanished."

"Yes." Dumbledore felt his mouth quirk into a sad smile. "I did indeed. He is an incredibly bright young man. His thoughts, beliefs and ideals are all well-thought out." He looked down at his desk. "Now he's gone and it appears that all of the work he put in, all the inroads he made in spite of his young age, may very well crumble. Without him present, I fear people like Lucius Malfoy and Endymion Nott will use his absence as proof that he is too young for his station."

"Do you really think they'd be capable of that?" Amelia seemed skeptical.

"If Harry isn't found before the start of the new year, they will likely claim that he cracked under pressure and ran from his duties."

Dumbledore felt shame return full force. All of this was his fault. As the headmaster, it was his duty to protect the children within these hallowed halls and keep them safe. Yet twice now Harry Potter and his friends had been put in danger. Twice now Harry had been the one to solve what should have been his problem. And this time, it had cost Harry a very dear friend. What kind of headmaster was he to let a student do what he and the staff should have done all along?

"We won't let that happen." Amelia's voice snapped him out of his funk. He looked up to see the woman standing before him, her eyes blazing in a way he'd not seen since the war. "We won't let that happen," she repeated. "Myself and the Dowager Longbottom will not let that happen. We'll run interference until Mr. Potter can be found." A grimace crossed her face. "I'm sure even Celestina will agree to help, though the Augusta may be adverse to working with her."

Dumbledore felt a small smile cross his face. His spirit, troubled and weathered, lifted, if only a bit. It seemed as if Harry Potter had made some strong allies. He knew he had no right to, but he couldn't help but feel proud of the young man.

Now if only they could find out where he'd hidden himself.

XoX

Susan Bones sat in her room. Right leg resting against the window sill, left leg dangling off the edge, she thought about all that had happened this last year; Harry's scary behavior toward Draco on the train; the many things she'd learned at school; the opening of the Chamber of Secrets. More than anything else, she thought about the loss of her two friends.

Hermione Granger was dead and Harry Potter was missing. She didn't even know how it happened, how either of those happened. It had all been so sudden. One moment they were all having a blast, enjoying the post-Quidditch tournament party; the next moment Hermione was dead, Harry was missing, and she and the others were returning home early. School had ended.

A knock on her door alerted her to the presence outside. Curious, she opened the door to discover something that pierced the darkness gathering in her mind.

"Hannah!" She squealed, embracing her friend who released a similar squeal. "Oh, I've missed you so much! I'm so glad you're hear I… I was…"

"It's okay." Hannah embraced her friend tighter. "I feel the same way."

"I thought you might like having a familiar face around to keep you company," Auntie Amelia said. The stern woman stood behind the two, her eyes tired and her shoulders hunched. She still somehow managed a smile despite her clear exhaustion. "With everything that's happened, I don't think it's good for you girls to be left alone to your thoughts."

Susan didn't need to be a genus to know she was talking about Harry and Hermione. She sent her auntie a grateful smile. "Thank you."

As her auntie left, Susan and Hannah went into her room and sat on the bed. They spoke for a while, not talking about anything serious, simply expressing how happy they were to see each other. Susan learned that Hannah's dad was off somewhere again, Rome. Apparently something went wrong with one of the vineyards there and he'd had to rush across the sea. Her mum was staying at home.

"What have you been up to since school ended?" Susan asked, leaning against several pillows she'd propped against the headboard. Hannah lay on her stomach near the foot of the bed, her feet kicking back and forth through the air.

"Not much, really." Hannah sighed. "There really isn't that much to do right now, and with… with all the stuff that's happened, I haven't really felt up to doing anything lately."

"I know what you mean." Susan tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear. "All I've done for the past week was sit around, eat and sleep. I'm just to…"

"Yeah…"

The two girls trailed off. Conversation ceased. Tension, awkward and thick, hung in the air, a cloud of stormy emotions causing what should have been a beautiful reunion to turn sour.

Susan Bones frowned. This wasn't how it should be. She and Hannah and all of their friends, they shouldn't be like this. They should be helping each other, leaning on each other for support. Hadn't that been what Headmaster Dumbledore told them at the end of the year? That they should be supporting each other during times like this?

_"In dark times such as these, we must learn to rely on each other. When things become too tough to face on your own, do not hesitate to lean on your friends, for they will never let you down."_

Yes, those had been his words. That they should learn to rely on each other; that they shouldn't hesitate to use their friends for support. That's what they needed to do. Not sit around in bed all day moping. They should be with their friends, helping each other.

Susan's determination hardened as she came to a decision.

"Susan?" Hannah asked, startled when Susan climbed off the bed.

"Come on."

Susan grabbed Hannah's right hand, pulled her off the bed and out of the room.

"Where are we going?"

"To see Auntie Amelia."

They found auntie Amelia in her office. The office, a large study with white carpet, beige walls and a roof of the same color, held the spartan appearance her auntie favored. Her auntie had never been one for ostentatious appearances, something about not liking her work space becoming cluttered. A desk sat in the back, a book case off to the side. Before the desk were two chairs and in the center of the room sat two leather sofas with a coffee table in between.

Her auntie sat behind her desk, writing something in a muggle notebook with a muggle pen. Susan almost smiled. Harry had been the one to suggest using muggle writing supplies over quills and parchment; something about muggle-made artifacts being more efficient and less costly, which made sense as a single quill cost five galleons while a muggle pen cost less than a pound.

"Auntie?"

"Just a minute, Susan," her auntie said, not looking up from her work. Susan and Hannah shared a look, before silently moving to the couch.

"She looks busy," Hannah whispered, "what do you suppose she's working on?"

"She's been manning the search for…" Susan hesitated. "For Harry."

Hannah winced.

"I-I see." She offered her friend an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

Susan shook her head. "You don't need to apologize. We're all worried about him." Hannah nodded, but still looked upset at herself.

Several minutes later, Auntie Amelia finished whatever she'd been working on. She set her pen aside and propped her elbows on the desk.

"I'm sorry for ignoring you two," she said, her smile tired. Susan could see bags forming under her auntie's eyes.

"Mm mm. Don't worry about it, Auntie Amelia." Susan shook her head as she and Hannah moved from the sofa to the chairs in front of the desk. "I know you're really busy with work."

"Have you found Harry yet?" Hannah blurted out. Seconds later the blond girl slapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. "S-sorry. That just sort of came out."

"It's fine." Auntie Amelia sighed. She leaned back in her desk, her face truly showing how weary she felt. Susan wondered if her auntie was getting enough sleep. "I know how worried you are about Mr. Potter. I'm pretty worried as well." Her auntie rubbed her temple with her right hand. "Unfortunately, we have not found any leads on Mr. Potter's whereabouts. We checked his relatives and it seems someone wiped their memories of Mr. Potter clean from their minds."

"Obliviation?" Susan asked, eyes widening.

"They were indeed Obliviated, and quite skillfully, too." Auntie Amelia rubbed her jaw. "Whoever wiped their minds did a masterful job. They don't remember anything about Mr. Potter. We also checked with Mr. Potter's muggle friend, Lisa Crawft. She appears to have all her memories intact, but doesn't know anything as to his possible whereabouts either."

"Auntie?" Susan grew worried upon seeing the grimace on her aunt's face.

"It's nothing." Auntie Amelia dismissed her concern. "So then, as you can unfortunately see, we haven't managed to scrap together even a hint of where Mr. Potter might have gone." She gave them a wry smile. "But that's not what you came to talk to me about, is it?"

Susan shook her head. "No, I—we were wondering if we could get all of our friends together, like some kind of gathering, or something."

"Susan?" Hannah asked.

Auntie Amelia leaned back in her chair, visibly surprised. "You want to get your friends together?" Susan nodded. "All of them?"

"All of them," Susan confirmed.

XoX

Since the start of summer Tracey Davis and Lisa Turpin had spent almost every waking minute together. Out of all those who were considered "Harry's inner circle," they'd been hurt the most by the loss of their friend. Hermione had been closer to them than anyone else, the third member of their trinity. Her passing had left a gap in their hearts that simply couldn't be filled.

Tracey had spent much of her time not with Lisa crying. When she and Lisa were together they cried together, or reminisced about moments they'd shared with Hermione. They supported one another. Tracey knew that without Lisa she'd be even more of a wreck than she already was.

The two were currently sitting within Tracey's room, on the lightly colored carpet. Before them lay several dozen pictures, standard non-magical photos. They'd been taken by Hermione's mum when their friend invited them over to her house. She and Lisa had been quite shocked when they realized these pictures did not move. They'd been even more shocked when Hermione had introduced them to muggle television.

"Do you remember this time?" Tracey asked, pointing at one photo in particular. It was an image of the three of them in a small booth. Lisa's face dominated most of the screen, her wide eyes staring at them as if searching for something only she could see. "You were so shocked by the small camera in the booth that you stuck your face into the lens and this was the picture that came out." Tracey's chuckle was laced with sadness. "You were so fascinated with mugg—mundane technology that you always made a complete fool of yourself."

Lisa sniffled. Her tears had already dried, but the desire to continue shedding them still existed. Still, she tried for her friend to appear cheerful, just like Tracey did for her. "Yeah, well, you weren't much better. I still remember that one time we went to the movie theater and you flipped out."

"Hey!" Tracey pouted, crossing her arms under her chest. "Anyone who saw something like that Beast fellow would've freaked out too."

"I didn't."

"Yes you did. I saw you grabbing onto Hermione when he appeared."

"W-whatever."

A knock on the door precluded the entrance of Mrs. Davis. She peered at the two, her head poking into the room.

"Tracey, Lisa, I've got some lunch ready for you."

"Thanks, mum."

"Yes, thank you."

Tracey's mother came in bearing a tray of sandwiches. She set them down to the side on the floor, smiling sadly when she noticed the pictures laying between them.

"How are you two feeling?"

"Fine."

"Alright."

Mrs. Davis sighed. Tracey knew her mother didn't believe them, and she couldn't blame her. Neither she nor Lisa had been in good shape. Even now, Tracey knew that, were she to look in a mirror, bags would be hanging under bloodshot eyes. Her friend looked much the same.

"You know I just received a floo call from Madam Bones a little while ago." The two youngsters perked up, causing Mrs. Davis' smile to brighten. "She's apparently planning a get together for her niece and asked if you two would like to come over."

Tracey's eyes widened. A get together? With Susan? Did that mean the others would be going as well? She hadn't spoken to any of them since returning home, having been too busy moping and crying to even think about her other friends.

Tracey swore to herself. How could she be so insensitive? Surely, she and Lisa weren't the only ones suffering. They'd all lost someone dear when Hermione died.

"We'd love to!" Tracey said before Lisa could get a word in edgewise.

Mrs. Davis smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. I'll let Madam Bones know that you would like to come over."

"Did she tell you who all was going to be there?" Lisa asked.

The smile on Mrs. Davis' face widened. "Why, all of your friends are going to be there, of course."

XoX

Susan had been waiting in anticipation of this day, the day she'd finally see her friends again. The thought of meeting them once more thrilled her. Not even her sorrow at the loss of Hermione and the missing Harry could keep that small ray of sunshine from entering her heart. It was her hope that by having her friends around, all supporting each other, that they could eventually destroy the bleakness no doubt surrounding them all.

Hannah had been with her since that day she'd first spoken to her auntie. She'd spent the night and they stayed up talking about the latest in wizarding fashion and listening to the Weird Sisters on the wireless. It had been fun, much more fun than when she'd been alone and drowning in sorrow. She could only hope this get together would help both her and her friends get through this.

The first to arrive was Blaise. He came in through the floo with his mother, looking far different now that he wasn't wearing robes. He'd donned much more casual clothes, slacks and a plain silk shirt. His mother was dressed to the nines, however, with a silk gown that shimmered in variations of red, constantly shifting whenever she walked. Her choice of attire played a sharp contrast to Blaise's clothing.

"Susan, Hannah." Blaise nodded to them both. Susan thought she saw a smile on his face, but couldn't be sure due to his haggard appearance. He looked tired, red eyes with slight bags underneath. Susan imagined he'd been having it just as bad as her. "It's good to see you two. I hope you've been doing well."

"About as well as can be expected." Susan smiled, and Blaise grimaced.

"Yes." He sighed, running a tired hand through his hair. The gesture was uncharacteristic of him. Susan wondered if he'd picked it up recently. "I imagine so, considering everything that's happened."

"And how've you been, Blaise?" asked Hannah.

"I've been better," Blaise admitted. Hannah flinched, but he offset the somewhat brittle words by gracing her with a more genuine smile. "Though I will admit that seeing you two has really brightened my week. It hasn't been easy, this past week."

"I can imagine," Susan said.

While the three young people spoke, Madam Bones and Celestina also exchanged pleasantries.

"I really do have to thank you for inviting my son over," Celestina's words were surprisingly sincere. Rare were the times when she spoke without her tone containing a hint of mocking condescension. "Blaise has not been himself since this years end—not that I can blame him, of course. Losing a friend is never easy and he's just lost two in the span of a few days. I had honestly been thinking about doing something similar to this but, well." She gave Amelia a slightly edgy smile. "Not all of the families my son has befriended like me very much."

Amelia observed the other woman with sharp, keen eyes. Slowly, she nodded. "Yes, I can see how that would be a problem. You are not well-liked among certain circles." The steel lacing her eyes spoke volumes of the stern woman's own thoughts. "However, you really have no one but yourself to blame for that. Perhaps if you weren't so keen on taking amusement from the suffering of others, people would enjoy your company more."

"And just where would I find my amusement, then?" Celestina's smile was wicked, more so than her eyes, which gleamed with an almost malicious light. "I must find my entertainment somewhere, and if the piping fools who enjoy puffing their own chests offer themselves so willingly to my clutches, then who am I to deny them?"

Amelia just sighed. "That sharp tongue of yours will get you into a lot of trouble some day."

"Perhaps, but the thrilling possibility of finding trouble is half the fun."

XoX

The group began to expand soon. Lisa and Tracey joined minutes after Blaise. The pair showed a remarkable difference in personality than Susan remembered. Tracey no longer shoved her foot in her mouth—in fact, she hardly spoke at all. Lisa didn't smile as much, and when she did they were filled with melancholy. It hurt, seeing her two friends like this.

"How've you two been?" Susan asked after exchanging hugs with the two girls. It wasn't something she'd done before, but she wanted to give them support. Hugs helped her when she felt down. Surely they'd help her friends, too. "I hope... well, I hope you haven't been, you know..."

"Crying our eyes out?" Tracey's smile reminded Susan of peanut brittle, sweet and flavorful, but easily broken. "We've done plenty of that already, so you don't have to worry about any waterworks from us... at least not right now."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"Don't be." Tracey shook her head. "This is hard on all of us."

The group continue speaking in hushed tones. Mrs. Davis didn't stay for long, just enough to speak with Susan's aunt and Celestina before taking off.

Terry was the next to arrive. The subdued man greeted them all with a curt nod before remaining mostly quiet, only speaking when directly spoken to. Susan thought it seemed almost wrong how Tracey and Terry didn't get up to their usual arguing.

The last of their group to arrive was Neville. He appeared with his grandmother, the Dowager Longbottom. While Neville walked toward his friends, the Dowager moved to greet Susan's aunt. Her nose wrinkled, however, when she saw who stood with her.

"Madam Bones," she said, her voice strained, but not enough that anyone except a skilled politician would notice. "It is good to see you again. You don't know how pleased I was to hear that you planned on throwing a small get together for the children."

"I thought it might do them some good," Amelia said, nodding toward the group of kids. "Susan and Hannah have been very distraught ever since returning home from school, and I believe that having their friends come over would help take away some of their pain."

"Indeed, my Neville has been much the same. Granted, he has always been a quiet, shy boy, but he hasn't spoken more than several sentences since school ended and has clammed himself in the green house." Dowager Longbottom sighed. "It's truly a tragedy, what happened this year: the opening of the Chamber, the petrifications, the loss of that girl... Hermione, I think her name was. Not to mention the disappearance of Mr. Potter." She turned to give the younger woman a freezing gaze. "You have not found him yet, have you?"

"No." Madam Bones sighed. "Though we have put much of our efforts into searching for him, we have not been able to locate him yet. We've even begun searching mundane London."

The Dowager raised an eyebrow. "Mundane? You have been listening to Mr. Potter's thoughts on muggle society, I see."

"Mr. Potter brought up many good points when I spoke with him on this. While innately superior due to our magic, that does not necessarily equate to us being better. He has given me much material on how mundane people work and think, and of the technology they have. Some of the things I already knew of; cars, airplanes and basic household appliances, but there are a few things I've learned that is truly astounding. Muggle Television, the internet—I've actually requested the Department of Mysteries to study that and see if they can't reverse engineer that—and the rocket ship."

"Rocket ship?"

"A vessel shaped like a cylinder that is propelled by multiple rockets, which are sort of like large engines, and launches them into space. I hear Mundanes have even taken trips to the moon."

"Surely you jest."

"They have pictures."

"You know it's awfully rude of you to speak with another, even the host, without at least first greeting the other person in the room," Celestina said, and though her voice remained mild, it contained a razors edge. "It's quite disappointing to see where your manners have gone, Dowager Longbottom."

"And it's quite disappointing to see you're still here," Dowager Longbottom retorted. "However, I put up with your presence because Amelia has allowed you into her manor, and it would be remiss of me to argue with you while I am a guest here."

Celestina crossed her arms under her prominent bust. "Hmph, you're no fun."

While the adults talked amongst themselves, the children moved several feet away and had their own conversation.

"It... really does feel like we're missing something without Harry and Hermione, doesn't it?" Terry was the first person to bring up the two elephants in the room. The others flinched. "It just seems to strange being together like this without them."

"Yeah..." Neville looked at the others. "I keep thinking all of this was just some kind of bad dream and that I'll wake up from it eventually."

"But you haven't, right?" Tracey's smile trembled, as if she might cry any second. "You keep on going to bed every night, hoping that this is all just a dream and that tomorrow you'll wake up in your bed at Hogwarts, go to breakfast and be greeted by your friends." Her shoulders shook. "Only it never does, does it? You always wake up the next morning and realize that this is real; that Hermione is gone and she's never coming back, and that nothing you do can change that."

Lisa wrapped an arm around Tracey's shoulder, pulling the other girl into a comforting embrace. The others all looked at each other, vaguely uncomfortable at seeing a girl who used to be so upbeat and perky nearly in tears.

Susan's eyes hardened in determination. She moved to Tracey's other side and followed Lisa's example. While Tracey tried to stifle the flood of tears, Lisa sent the redhead a truly grateful look, to which Susan replied with a smile.

Conversation eventually became less painful. The group tried avoiding subjects that involved Hermione. No one wanted to see Tracey break down in tears. They spoke of Quidditch and fashion and hobbies, things that were as far from their friend as possible.

"Gran got me this new plant for my green house," Neville was saying with faux enthusiasm. Susan could hear how forced the words sounded, as if he were simply saying them to keep from thinking darker thoughts. "It's called a Fanged Geranium, a magical flower with sharp teeth. It's kinda difficult to take care of because it keeps trying to bite me, but it's a very useful potion ingredients."

"I've used it in potions before," Blaise said, nodding his head.

"Something wrong, Tracey?" Lisa asked when she noticed her friend frowning.

"I'm just wondering where Harry is," Tracey confessed. "I'd expect him to be here for something like this. Did he just not get the memo or something?"

Silence descended upon the group. Susan and Hannah shared a look, before Susan turned to Tracey. "You mean you haven't heard?"

Tracy frowned at her. "Heard what?"

"Tracey, Harry's been missing since school ended. No one knows where he is."

"WHAT?!"

XoX

The room was dark; barely any light managed to penetrate the darkness. The windows were open, but the curtains had been closed, blocking out the sunlight.

The room was spartan, bare of all but the essentials. A bed sat against the wall furthest from the door, an owl stand next to the window, and a dresser and night stand stood in a corner.

A heady scent filled the air, fumes from a boiling cauldron in the center of the room. Situated on the cauldron's left was a table filled with numerous papers, scrolls of parchment, several notebooks filled to bursting with notes and a plain-looking diary with a hole through its center and dried ink like blood spreading across the cover.

Harry Potter stood in front of the cauldron. His right index finger made counterclockwise motions, his magic caused the mixer to stir the liquid at precisely timed intervals. Fumes rose from the cauldron, vapid and thick. Mist-like tendrils roiled outwards several times as the ingredients puffed and sputtered. The liquid inside, a thick yellow substance began turning a light green. Nodding to himself, he grabbed the diary and unhesitatingly cut a piece off to cast into the cauldron, which puffed before shifting in the color spectrum once again.

Taking out a small sample with a spoon, he brought the liquid over to the table where he'd laid out a blank piece of parchment and poured the liquid onto the parchment. He watched, eyes narrowed as the liquid splashed against the rough surface before being absorbed and turning the parchment green.

Nodding to himself, Harry waved his hand at several vials, which filled themselves with the rest of the potion. He then cleaned up his workspace with another hand wave before moving over to his desk and getting out more notes.

After obliviating his relatives, Harry Potter had gone into mundane London and rented out a small flat near Regent Square. It was within walking distance from the British Library, which he enjoyed, and was relatively quiet, with few other residents to bother him, allowing him to practice his magic and experiments unobstructed.

So far most of his experiments had been trying to determine the magic used to create Tom Riddle's diary. Even a little over a week after he destroyed it, dark magic still surrounded the diary, a remnant of the terrible power it once possessed. He wanted to find out what this magic was. How could someone preserve their memory into a diary like that? What's more, he wanted to know how a memory could gain a form through leeching off another's magic. More importantly, he wanted to find out who Tom Riddle was; find out if he was still alive, and if so, kill him.

But that was for later. The potion would take a while to do its job deciphering the dark magic signature, probably a few days at least. In the meantime, he would start working on some of his other projects.

Harry hadn't given up on learning more alchemy. He'd been steadily working toward his goal. Given a bit more time, he was sure he'd be able to create the perfect sparring partner—or the body for his perfect sparring partner, at least.

He looked at the large sheet of paper on his desk. It contained a transmutation circle, the most complex one he'd drawn thus far. A circle with two five-pointed stars with each triangle point containing alchemical symbols: power, durability, life and death. It wasn't complete; some symbols were still missing, but he was positive he'd be ready to start testing his circle soon. He just needed to do some shopping for supplies...

Harry blinked when the curtains to his room burst open and Hedwig swooped in.

"Where you have you been, Hedwig?"

A trill. Hedwig dropped a newspaper onto his desk and swooped back out.

Harry frowned as she disappeared into the distance. He couldn't understand anything she'd just said. Why couldn't he understand her? Why wasn't his ability to send and receive images via telepathy working?

In the end he shrugged. His strange disconnection with Hedwig was the least of his worries right now.

He looked at the newspaper she'd dropped on his desk and picked it up, reading the front headline news.

_HARRY POTTER MISSING!_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_Yes dear readers, you've heard right. It has officially been revealed to us that one of our greatest celebrities, the young heir Harry Potter, age 10, has gone missing. According to report, heir Potter disappeared almost immediately after muggle friend, Herminish Granger, was tragically murdered at Hogwarts. The Aurors have begun a frantic investigation into his whereabouts, but it looks like, once again, they are proving to be as incompetent as always._

_One must ask themselves why heir Potter has chosen to disappear from the public eye. Was he grief-stricken over the death of his friend? Or is there something more sinister going on in the works here. Having been given the chance to speak with some of heir Potter's companions at school, this reporter was able to learn much._

"_Potter's always been a bit of a bigot," upstanding pureblood, Draco Malfoy, said. "All you have to do is listen to the way he talks down to people to know he's egotistical; always giving lectures, always belittling others in class. I actually tried befriending him once, but after seeing the way he treated others, retracted my hand of friendship."_

_For the past two years now, heir Potter has come off as an upstanding young man, a paragon of nobility and everything we've come to expect from a celebrity of his stature. But what if all of that's a lie? What if his amiable personality is merely a smokescreen hiding the monster within it?And how does Harry Potter's disappearance coincide with Harmony Granger's death? This writer doesn't know, but you can be sure she's willing to do what it takes to find out._

_For more information on Harry Potter, see page 4._

_For more information on Hermione Granger, see page 8._

Harry tossed the newspaper into the trash. He knew he should be angry by the article, but all he felt was a sense of apathy. What did he care if those people thought him a monster? They didn't matter, did they? Just a bunch of sheep following the herd. A little good will and a few coins placed in the right hand would cure any ill feelings people had toward him. It worked well enough for Lucius Malfoy; it would work just fine for him.

Sitting back down at his desk, Harry got back to work.

* * *

><p><strong>First off, I would like to thank everyone who's been reading this story. Thank you and I hope you have a Merry Christmas... unless you don't celebrate Christmas, in which case I wish you a happy holidays.<strong>

**Second, I have an announcement to make and two favors to ask. Starting today and ending on Thursday, December 25****th****, my book, A Fox's Love, will be free to download on Amazon Kindle. This is a limited time deal that I can only afford to do once, and only for this book. I'd like to ask that all of you who enjoy reading my stories and haven't gotten this book, please go onto Amazon, download it, give it a read and, if you like it, please leave a review on my books Amazon page (or goodreads if you've got an account there), letting everyone know what you liked about it. Consequently, if you thought it was crap, I would love to personally pick your brain. Please send me a message so I might be able to figure out where you feel I went wrong and do better next time.**

**If you don't have a Kindle, do not worry, you can download a Kindle application onto your computer and/or mobile phone for free. I myself don't have a Kindle, but I do have an android, which is where I read my ebooks.**

**For those of you who are patiently waiting for the next installment, I ask for just a little more patience. I'm having manga illustrations done to go with Book 2, so it's taking a bit more time than I initially suspected. My hope is to have it ready to launch sometime next Spring.**

**Thanks again, and I hope you all have a great holiday.**


	2. Coming Together

**Chapter 2: Coming Together**

* * *

><p>A woman emerged from a large fire place. Her fashionable black heels clicked along the marble floor. Her wizarding robes looked more like a dress than actual robes. Black satin glimmered as she strode across the large foyer, ignoring the imposing columns and ornate paintings.<p>

Her march took her all the way to a large, imposing staircase that branched in two directions. The white marble of the staircase contrasted with the dark green carpet that had been placed over the stairs.

A pop, the sound of air being displaced, alerted her to the presence of a house elf appearing. She paused to stare down at the little creature, its ears flopping and its refined outfit fitting its frame. It wore the symbol of the Most Noble House of Greengrass on its front.

"May I help you, madam?"

"Well now, this is a surprise," she said, holding a hand demurely to her lips, the better to hide her smile, "I had not been aware that Nathaniel had gotten himself a house elf. Well, no matter. Please inform your master that Celestina Zabini, Head of the Most Noble House of Zabini, is here and would like to meet with him."

The house elf stared for a little while longer, before slowly bowing before her.

"Very well, Lady Zabini."

There was another crack of displaced air, and the house elf vanished, leaving her alone.

With nothing to do but wait, she amused herself by studying the various paintings that lined the foyer. All of them were fine pieces, exquisite works of art that defied description; landscapes that displayed incredible scenes of beauty and differing techniques. They also cost a small fortune. Nathaniel Greengrass must be doing very well for himself if he could afford these.

The air popped again. Celestina turned back to the house elf, who bowed before her.

"The master will see you now."

"Very well then. Lead the way," she smiled, "It has been so long since I've last been here that I fear I no longer know how to get to Nathan's study."

The house elf bowed again.

"Of course, Lady Zabini."

Celestina followed the house elf up the flight of green carpeted stairs, and through a number of corridors. As she walked, she silently studied the house of her old friend.

This place looked nothing like the Greengrass manor that she used to know. Back before the death of Mary Anne Greengrass, this manor had been such a lively place, with bright colors and an inviting atmosphere. But no more. Instead of warm and inviting, it was cold and impersonal, no doubt a reflection of its owners current state of mind.

They eventually reached an elegantly crafted wooden door. Several designs that she recognized as ward schemes ran across varnished rosewood, hidden behind motifs and swirling patterns. Nathaniel must have become awfully paranoid if he was having defensive arrays like that placed on his door. She eyed the crest in the center: a King Cobra on a grassy field, coiled and ready to strike. Below that, the Greengrass family motto, _Agnuis in herba_, was displayed underneath in golden cursive.

"The master is waiting for you," the house elf bowed, opening the door with a snap of his fingers.

Celestina strode through the door and surveyed the room with a keen eye. Dark green carpet, wood panelled walls, expensive furnishings, this room was no doubt designed to impose Nathaniel's importance on all who entered. In the back of the room, sitting behind a rich desk made of walnut and drafting papers, was the person that she had come all this way to meet.

She smiled.

"Nathan, it's so good to see you. I hope you're doing well."

"I believe I told you to never call me that again," Nathaniel did not look up from his work.

"You've told me a lot of things," Celestina walked further into the room, only stopping upon reaching the man's desk, "I see that you have been doing well for yourself. I suppose I should have expected that, Mr. Representative for the ICW. Your power within the ministry has certainly solidified ever since you became a most esteemed member of the International Confederation of Wizards, though I do have to wonder what caused you to choose such a career path. As I recall, you originally wished to go into archaeology."

"That was an old dream, one belonging to a naive and foolish young man, and one not suitable for a person of my station."

"Oh my," she held a hand to her lips, "A person of your station, hm? You know, I remember a time when you cared little for one's station. I even remember when you used to argue with your parents, making claims that you would be whatever you wanted to be, and that they could do nothing to stop you. Ah, such an amusing boy you were back then, so full of life and vigor. I wonder where that person has disappeared to?"

Nathaniel paused in his work, then restarted. She smiled. Was that annoyance that she sensed?

"What is it that you want, Lady Zabini?"

"Lady Zabini? Such a cold thing to call an old friend. I'd much rather you call me Celestina."

"I'd much rather not."

"How cruel."

Another pause. Celestina kept her smile on. It seemed Nathaniel Greengrass wasn't as unemotional as he tried making everyone believe. She wondered how far she could push him before he snapped, though she dared not try. She didn't wish to jeopardize the reason for which she had come.

"All pleasantries aside, I am actually here on behalf of my son and his friends. They are all quite worried for their friend, young Daphne, you see. I do not blame them. It must be difficult for them, knowing where she is but not being able to see her. Young people need to interact with their friends, you know. It's a very important part of growing up. That is why I would like to request that you allow Daphne and her younger sister, sweet little Astoria, to visit my manor for the summer. It would do my son a world of good to see his friend again, especially after the most recent tragedy that has befallen them."

Celestina knew of what happened at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It had been in the front page headlines of the Daily Prophet for nearly a week-at least until news of Harry Potter's disappearance reached the media, which had now become the number one headline for the past several days. And she knew that Nathaniel was aware of what had happened, too. As a political savant, and one who belonged to the ICW, it was important that he keep abreast of all matters which could affect his social standing.

"I do not see why I should allow Astoria or Daphne to go anywhere," Nathaniel informed her in his cold, impersonal way, "My heir is currently undergoing training, and must be kept in isolation until such a time as I am satisfied."

Which meant he was keeping Daphne locked up in her room, probably in order to break her of all her emotions by forcing her to remain alone in her time of grief until she snapped. Celestina almost sighed in frustration. That just would not do.

"Then I suppose you leave me no choice," she sighed dramatically, "I suppose I will have to inform certain parties of the events that took place around eighteen years ago, when a certain impulsive and brash young man snuck out of Hogwarts, and took his beau to see a Led Zeppelin concert."

She cracked a smile when Nathaniel stiffened. Time for the coup de grace.

"And I suppose, I shall also have to give those certain parties these pictures," she reached in between her bosom, and pulled out a number of pictures. Standard non-magical photos that didn't move. All of them featured a young man with blond hair and blue eyes, and a beautiful young woman with hair several shades lighter than the man and sea green eyes. They were at a muggle rock concert. In the middle of a mosh pit. Going crazy. The young man was headbanging.

Nathaniel's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.

"Where did you get those?"

Celestina smiled. She felt overflowing with victory and win.

"Oh, I just found them lying around one day while I was going through some old photo albums," she replied airily, "Now then, about young Daphne and Astoria…"

XoX

Daphne gripped Astoria's hand as she led the younger girl to their father's study.

She didn't know why they had been called, nor did she know how she was supposed to feel about being called. From the moment she had arrived home for the summer holidays, her father had practically confined her to her room, only allowing her out during meal times. She knew why, of course; her outburst when she had first arrived home had been completely unbefitting of an heiress to the Most Noble House of Greengrass.

That had been the first time in a long time that she had seen her father angry. She still shuddered upon remembering the look of disgust and rage that had been just barely concealed behind his icy-cold facade. She never wanted to see that expression again.

"What do you think Lord Greengrass wants?" Astoria asked.

Daphne looked at her sister and frowned. Astoria had also been punished, but not because the girl had done anything wrong. Her father knew of the love that she had for her sister. He had punished Astoria in order to punish her. Even now she could see the bruise hidden underneath her sister's shirt, crawling up the girl's neck like an insidious parasite that had burrowed under her skin.

"I don't know," Daphne admitted, "It could be anything." She paused, her eyes showing the concern she felt. "Are you alright, Stori?"

Astoria gave her sister a brave smile that Daphne knew she didn't feel. Her sister feared their father even more than she did.

"I'm fine. He hasn't touched me since confining you to your room."

"That's good," she sighed in relief. That meant it had been a one time thing, then. He'd probably punished Astoria in front of her to show what would happen to her sister if she let her emotions slip again. She would have to be more careful about not displaying any emotions from now on.

They reached their father's study, and Daphne knocked on the door.

"Enter."

Taking a deep breath, gripping Astoria's hand fiercely, Daphne opened the door and entered the room.

"Lady Zabini?" Daphne almost gawked when she saw the mischieviously smiling woman standing in her father's study. What was Celestina Zabini doing here? Her father hadn't had contact with the woman for several years now; ever since mother had died. Only the knowledge that gawking would be met with punishment kept her from actually doing so.

"Hello, Daphne, Astoria," Lady Zabini's eyes twinkled merrily. The woman seemed inordinately pleased with herself. "How have you two been?"

"I've been good," Astoria spoke before Daphne could stop her. She glanced at their father, whose expression remained unreadable. He seemed to be radiating annoyance, and she wondered what had happened between him and Lady Zabini.

Lady Zabini's light, airy laugh filled the room.

"I am glad to see that you're in such high spirits. I must admit, it is a pleasure to see you again after so long. I haven't been able to so much as lay eyes on you since you were just a toddler crawling around on the floor, following after Daphne." While Astoria both blushed and scowled, Lady Zabini turned to her. "And you, Daphne, has your summer been well?"

"It has," Daphne lied smoothly, her mind quickly falling back to her usual icy mien. She couldn't allow herself to show weakness in front of her father. "And you, Lady Zabini? I trust that you and your children are doing well?"

"Times could be better," Lady Zabini admitted graciously, "However, let us not speak of such things." She clapped her hands. "Now then, Daphne, Astoria, do you have your bags packed? If not, then I suggest you hurry and pack them."

Daphne looked at her father, who remained sitting in his chair behind the desk, looking like he'd just swallowed a lemon, then back to Lady Zabini. What was going on here? Why was her father not saying anything? What did Lady Zabini mean by pack their bags? Were they going somewhere?

"Why are we packing our bags? Are we going somewhere?" Astoria asked, voicing the questions that Daphne wished to know.

Lady Zabini's smile contained enough devious delight that a thrill ran down Daphne's spine.

"Why yes, we are. You and Daphne shall be staying over at my manor for the summer holidays." Daphne's mind blanked. Lady Zabini's smile widened. "Now then, please go and pack your things. We'll be leaving in a few minutes. And don't worry, your father has approved this."

A glance at her father revealed that he had yet to move from his spot. He stared at her, his normally cold, unfeeling eyes tinged with annoyance. Was this really happening? Was her father actually letting them go over to another person's house? And Lady Zabini's at that!

"Really?! We're really going over to your house?" an excited Astoria complete lost her composure. Daphne glanced warily at her father, whose right hand twitched.

"That's right," Lady Zabini's merry smile gained several levels of mischief, "You two are going to be staying with me for the holidays, so you need to go pack your bags and get prepared."

"Come on, Daphne!"

Astoria dragged her out of the room. Daphne could do nothing but follow, her mind shot, more blank than it would have been if someone had obliviated it.

_What just happened?_

XoX

The fire roared as she and her sister emerged from it. They stepped into a modest living space. Their shoes touched against soft carpet, as the flames went from green back to their standard orange and red.

"Daphne!"

A shout came from her left, and Daphne was nearly bowled over by an overly excited Tracey.

"W-what? Tracey?" She looked down at the girl hugging her around the waist. "What are you doing here, Trace?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Tracey asked. When Daphne just gave her a flat look, she continued. "We're all staying with the Zabinis."

Daphne raised an eyebrow.

"We?"

"That's right."

"Hello, Daphne," another voice spoke up from somewhere to her left. She turned to look at the source. "It's good to see you again. We were very worried about you."

"Susan?"

Daphne blinked when she saw the redhead, and then blinked again when she saw everyone else. Standing next to Susan was what looked like their entire group. She saw Hannah and Lisa and Terry and Blaize. They stood just a few feet away. The only person missing was Neville and… "Where's Harry?"

The group all turned to look at each other. Daphne frowned when she saw the expressions on her friends' faces. Something unsettling dropped into her stomach, a led ball of anxiety that she couldn't brush away.

"You mean you haven't heard?" Tracey asked in shock. Daphne frowned at her.

"I've hardly even been out of my room," Daphne grumbled, "Of course I haven't heard."

"Daphne," Tracey said, "Harry has been missing ever since school ended."

"W-what?"

Daphne stared at her friend, wide eyed. She knew that Harry had disappeared sometime during school, and that no one could find him. However, she had just suspected that he was trying to avoid crowds in order to be left alone with his grief. She hadn't realized that he was actually missing.

"I… I don't understand. Harry is missing?"

"Yeah," Tracey nodded, "And no one's been able to find him ever since, well… you know. Anyway, there are search parties happening all over. The entire auror force has been searching for him. I hear they've even started searching for him in muggle London."

Susan and the others walked up to them. Daphne looked at Susan, who confirmed her silent question with a nod.

"Aunty has ordered all of her auror forces to be on the lookout for him, and she's got one-third of the forces actively searching for him. They haven't had much luck finding him yet, but she told me that they're going to be expanding their search radius soon, so hopefully, they'll find him, or at least a clue that will lead them to him."

"I… I see," she muttered, resisting the urge to clutch at her chest, where a sharp pain had flared up, as if she was being pricked with a needle. She didn't want to show weakness to her friends.

"So wait," Astoria said suddenly, "Harry Potter is missing? Why would he be missing?"

Everyone became silent. Lisa and Tracey grew unusually solemn, and Tracey even looked about ready to cry. Blaize had closed his eyes and muttered something under his breath, while Terry had gone deathly still. Hannah leaned into Susan, and Daphne could see the redhead trying to put up a brave front for their friends.

"Guys?" Astoria asked, her voice suddenly small as she seemingly realized that she had just stepped on a landmine.

"Stori," Daphne said in a quiet voice, attracting her sister's attention, "I'll tell you what happened some other time. Please, just let it go for right now."

Astoria looked ready to protest, but thankfully didn't. The young blond girl stared at her, as if searching for something in her eyes. Daphne didn't know what her sister was looking for, or if she even found it, but the young girl eventually nodded.

"I… okay, Daph, I won't ask anymore questions."

"Thank you."

A loud clap got everyone's attention.

"Now, now children," Lady Zabini smiled at the group, "Why don't we shelve this depressing conversation, hm? I didn't invite you all over so that you could mope around my home. Why don't you girls show Astoria and Daphne where they'll be staying? Then you can join the boys in the game room and have some fun."

"Game room?" Daphne looked at Blaize, who gave her an eloquent shrug.

"Mum's recently picked up a fascination for non-magical games, billiards in particular. Not sure why."

"Now don't be like that, Blaize. Billiards is a game that requires skill and precision to play, and unlike a magical game, it won't blow up in your face."

"Mum's got really bad luck when she plays wizarding games," Blaize added, causing his mother to pout at him, "Any time she plays, she almost always ends up having something explode in her face."

"You had better be careful when airing my dirty laundry, Blaize, lest you find yourself stranded in the middle of Africa with no way of getting home." Blaize became just a tad paler. Lady Zabini smiled and clapped her hands once more. "Now then, come along girls. Show these two where they shall be staying. Blaize, Terry and I shall wait for you in the game room."

Lady Zabini placed an arm around her son's shoulder, causing him to go deathly stiff. She placed her other arm around Terry, who suddenly blushed under the contact, then led the two away.

"Stop scowling, Tracey," Lisa said in response to the nasty look on Tracey's face. Daphne felt a touch of amusement as she saw her friend trying to bore a hole through Lady Zabini's back with her eyes.

"I'm not scowling," Tracey muttered angrily.

"Yes, you are," Lisa immediately shot back, smiling, "And I think I know why."

Tracey's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Oh yeah? And why is that?"

"You're jealous."

"W-w-what?" Daphne witnessed something truly amazing: Tracey stuttering and blushing. "I-I am not jealous! Why would I be jealous of that stupid, cow-chested old hag!"

Lisa's smile was mysterious.

"Why indeed."

"I think it's because Tracey likes Terry," Hanna commented. Tracey whirled on the girl and pointed, her face a rictus of embarrassed outrage.

"I do not!"

"She totally likes Terry," Lisa confirmed with a nod, "That's why she's always fighting with him. She argues with Terry because she wants him to pay attention to her."

"No, I don't! You don't know what you're talking about!"

"It's okay, Tracey," Hannah told the loudmouth, her expression mockingly sympathetic. Daphne had the distinct impression that Hanna was getting revenge for all the times Tracey had said something stupid. "There's nothing wrong with having a crush on Terry. He's a good catch, I suppose. He's smart and he's not bad looking. He likes Quidditch, and he enjoys arguing just as much as you do. You two are a match made in heaven."

"Stop picking on me, dammit!"

"We're not picking on you," Lisa's faux-frown told Daphne that they were, indeed, picking on Tracey, "We're simply telling you that we support your relationship with Terry."

"I'm not in a relationship with Terry!"

Daphne watched on the sidelines as Hannah and Lisa double-teamed Tracey, flustering the poor girl with their constant remarks about her relationship with Terry. She didn't really know if Tracey liked Terry, or if the girl simply argued with him because that's just what Tracey did, but she couldn't deny that watching the girl being picked on by their friends amused her. She must be a bad person to take entertainment in her friend's plight.

Susan pressed a hand to her forehead and sighed.

"Come on, you two. I'll show you where all of us are staying."

"All of us?" Daphne asked.

"Yes," Susan nodded, "Us, that is, we girls, are all sharing a room together. It was Ms. Zabini's idea."

"Oh."

"What about them," Astoria pointed at the trio still arguing. It had somehow devolved into Tracey trying to put Hannah and Lisa in a headlock. Considering there were two of them and one of her, it wasn't working out too well for the girl. Susan glanced at the three, then turned back to Daphne and Astoria, giving them a weak smile.

"They're not going to stop any time soon, I'm afraid. They've been doing this ever since, well, they've been teasing her for a while now," Susan smoothly changed the subject by leading her and Astoria to the door, "Anyway, let's get going. I'm sure those three will catch up once they realize that we've left."

"FOR THE LAST TIME! I'M NOT IN LOVE TERRY!"

"… Maybe."

XoX

Dumbledore was sitting in his office. In his hands was the Daily Prophet. He normally didn't read the Daily Prophet, except when he wanted a good laugh, but these days, even false news derived from a newspaper like this one was like an Elixir of Life to him. And he'd become rather good at reading between the lies and coming to his own conclusions.

Just then, his ward's flared to life, just like he'd anticipated. He had actually been expecting this meeting for a while, ever since he'd seen the front page headline for the Daily Prophet this morning, in fact.

"Come in, Cornelius," he called out, then waited. He could almost picture the way the minister had paused at the door, standing there with a stunned expression etched upon his face. It would have amused him in most circumstances, this image, but the gravity of recent events weighed him down too much to take joy in much of anything.

"You really do need to tell me how you do that, Albus," Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, said as he entered the room and closed the door behind him.

"It is merely a matter of experience and logical deduction, Cornelius," Dumbledore replied as he set the newspaper aside and placed his hands on the desk, "Now then, what may I do for you, Minister?"

Cornelius stopped in front of his desk, wringing his hands together.

"I need your help. I'm sure you've seen the front page of this morning's Daily Prophet."

Dumbledore glanced at the Daily Prophet. The front page headline read "_Sirius Black Escapes from Azkaban!"_ in big bold print. Below the headline title was an image of the man in question, his snarling visage containing insanity as he fought against the chains wrapped around him.

"I have indeed," he turned back to Cornelius, "And I must admit, we have quite the predicament on our hands. Sirius Black escaping from Azkaban prison is startling enough, but with everything that's happened recently, the situation with Black may escalate to unprecedented levels."

"Harry Potter," Cornelius said. Dumbledore nodded.

"Harry Potter is still missing, and now Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban. If we do not find Mr. Potter before Black does, I fear what may happen to him." Dumbledore paused to collect his thoughts. "Do we know how Black escaped?"

"We don't," the confession made Cornelius' shoulders slump, "We've questioned all of the guards, but none of them ever saw Black leave his cell, and there are no signs that he broke out. It's as if he simply vanished."

Dumbledore contemplated this new information. People, even wizards, do not simply vanish. They could apparate, but Azkaban was heavily warded. Apparition was impossible there. So was portkeying, for that matter. For someone to escape, they would have to not only break out of the prison, but also sneak past all of the guards, which included the dementors-the most vile creatures that Dumbledore ever had the displeasure of meeting. There was a reason no one had escaped Azkaban.

_At least until now._

"When was the last time Black was seen?" he asked. Cornelius' face scrunched up.

"The last time he was seen? I believe that was when I visited Azkaban on a routine inspection-I do that twice a year, you know, in order to make sure the prisoners are behaving. Black was the last prisoner I visited there. He seemed unusually lucid, unlike the other prisoners, perfectly capable of holding a conversation. He was even polite, greeting me as if I were an old friend or something-preposterous as the notion may be. I had that morning's Daily Prophet with me, and he asked if I would let him read it. I, well, I didn't see the harm in that, so I gave the paper to him. He apparently disappeared a few hours later. No one saw him leave, though, and the cell was still locked."

"I see," Dumbledore stroked his beard, a habit that he had picked up after watching Disney's _The Sword and the Stone_. It was a very good show-even if it wasn't a very realistic depiction of Merlin. "And was there anything incriminating in that newspaper? Something that may have set him off?"

"I… I'm not sure," Cornelius looked uncertain, "I mean, it was just the usual news that we've been having. He did seem unusually interested in two of the articles, though…"

"I suspect one of them was on the missing Harry Potter?" Dumbledore didn't really need to inquire. Harry's disappearance remained news even two weeks after the media had found out about it. There had recently been a string of _Harry sightings_ articles, though none of them had ever amounted to anything. According to Amelia, all of the Harry sightings had proven to be false leads. He suspected the articles were simply written as a means of turning a profit.

Cornelius nodded.

"It was."

"And what was the other one."

"I… I'm not sure," the Minister looked uncertain, "But he seemed unusually interested in one of the articles on page… two… I think it was."

Dumbledore almost sighed. That meant he would have to go back through the Daily Prophet from the other day and search for the article himself. It would be a bothersome task, but he couldn't afford to not look at every possible angle. Harry Potter's life could be at stake, and he refused to let another student die on his watch.

"What should I do?" Cornelius's desperation shone through in his pleading tone.

"The first thing that you must do, Minister, is not panic," Dumbledore informed the rotund man, "If you panic, then it will lead to you making rash decisions. You must remain calm."

Cornelius looked very much like those non-magical bobblehead dolls that Dumbledore had seen on car dashboards as he nodded.

"Right. Calm. Remain calm. Okay. I think I can do that."

He clearly couldn't, but Dumbledore decided not to tell him that.

"The next thing you need to do is contact the Daily Prophet. Have them write up a letter in the form of an article addressed to Harry Potter, informing him of Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban and urging him to stop by the auror office, so that we can place him under our protection."

"Do you think that will work?"

"If by work, you mean do I think Harry will reveal himself to us, then no. Mr. Potter is a very stubborn young man. If he has decided to disappear, then I doubt this news will make him retract his decision." Cornelius' looked increasingly flustered by this news. "However, it should make Mr. Potter aware of the danger that Sirius Black poses to him. He is a very bright child, and I'm sure that he will become cautious and act with much more prudence. For the moment, we will simply have to trust in his intelligence. ability to think logically, and act in an appropriate manner when faced with a crisis such as this."

Cornelius seemed more than eager to implement this idea.

"And what of Black?"

"Black will likely be going after Mr. Potter. As we do not know where Mr. Potter is, there isn't a whole lot that we can do. My suggestion is to have the aurors set up a search net in areas of non-magical London, which is where I suspect Mr. Potter may be hiding, as we have yet to locate him anywhere else. Have them make silent inquiries with the non-magical population, asking them if they've seen either Mr. Potter or Black. Be sure to issue the aurors standard non-magical photos so the non-magical population will have faces to reference during the questioning."

"Should I also bring out the dementors?"

"No," Dumbledore almost scowled at the thought of those things being let loose, "Dementors do not distinguish between friend and foe, and they will cause mass panic to spread through the non-magical population, which will hamper the aurors search. Keep them in Azkaban."

"Uh… okay."

Cornelius looked almost taken aback, and Dumbledore realized that he was letting his anger get the best of him. He sat back down and took a deep breath. He must be really tired if he was letting his emotions get out of control like that.

"Be sure to implement these plans and orders the moment you are able to. It is imperative that you act with haste, but do not act rashly. Inform the aurors that they should be cautious when searching through London. We do not want to tip Mr. Potter or Black off to the fact that we are searching for them."

"Right."

"And make sure that you only have aurors specifically trained to interact with non-magicals committing to the search. The last thing we need are a bunch of people getting obliviated because one of the less knowing aurors decided to do something, shall we say, less than intelligent."

Cornelius Fudge soon left. Dumbledore watched the Minister walk out of his office, feeling even more exhausted than before their meeting. Fudge was a decent Minister during times of peace, but he couldn't deal with unexpected problems that arose during more stressful times. That he was also in Lucius Malfoy's pocket didn't help his case.

He put the Minister of Magic out of his mind, and focused on the newest problem at hand: Sirius Black.

Out of all the people who had been surprised by Black's betrayal of the Potter's, he was one of those who had been the most shocked. Sirius Black had always struck him as a stalwart and loyal friend. Back when Black and James had been attending Hogwarts, he had proven his loyalty time and time again by sticking with the brash and impetuous James Potter. Even after they graduated, Black had remained steadfastly loyal to James and Lily, or so Dumbledore had thought.

Dumbledore remembered when the Potter's went into hiding. He had been there when Lily Potter cast the Fidelius and made Sirius Black their secret keeper. He would have never expected Black to betray the Potter's at the time, but when he learned of what happened, of James' and Lily's death and Harry becoming an orphan, he'd realized how Black had played them all.

_I should have seen it coming…_

It was always hard, watching as the people you were close to die. James and Lily had been friends. Out of all those who'd graduated these hallowed grounds, they were among the few that Dumbledore had truly been close to. Their deaths hurt, perhaps not to the same extent as the death of his dear sister, but he felt their deaths nonetheless.

After they'd died, Dumbledore had made a promise that he would do what he could to protect their son. He'd sent Harry to the Dursley's, where the young Potter heir would grow up away from the spotlight, away from the fans and, more importantly, away from potential assassination attempts.

He'd done everything he could to keep Harry's whereabouts a secret, even going so far as to cast an illegal warding scheme on the Dursley's house. It not only kept them from thinking about moving, but also kept anyone seeking to do Harry harm from ever discovering the location. With this, Harry Potter's location had all but vanished from the magical population, and any Death Eaters who might seek to harm him remained ignorant as to his whereabouts. He had even refused to go and visit, just in case people like Lucius Malfoy were watching his movements.

All that effort felt wasted now. Harry was gone and Sirius Black had escaped Azkaban, likely to seek out the young Potter heir in some misguided form of revenge. Dumbledore was at a loss. Everyone looked up to him, expecting him to have the answer for all of life's problems, for every emergency. They didn't realize that he, too, was only human.

_Stay safe, Harry…_

XoX

Harry Potter scowled as he stared at the remnants of his experiment to discover more about Tom Riddle's diary. There was nothing left of the blank parchment that he had used, nothing but ashes.

He'd been working on another of his experiments this morning. The creation of an artificial body, a homunculus, when the parchment containing the potion plus absorbed piece of Riddle's diary had spontaneously combust and then crumbled to ash.

The potion that he had concocted was a simple one. It was an analysis potion, similar in many ways to the chemical sheets that muggles use to determine the various states of liquids. It could almost be likened to those tabs that people stuck in water to determine its quality, only instead of determining the quality of water, this determined the quality of magic.

"I should have realized such a simple potion wouldn't work for this," he muttered to himself, "The magic used in the creation of this diary is impossibly dark and incredibly powerful. It's no wonder the potion didn't work. I suppose I should just be glad it didn't explode in my face."

He looked at the remains of his potion, which had turned a murky black and looked more like tar than a potion. Scowling, he waved his hand to vanish it. When the potion didn't vanish, merely bubbling instead, he scowled even more.

"It seems the magic in Riddle's diary is too powerful for me to vanish."

Harry wished he could use his wand. He would probably be able to vanish the potion with his wand helping him empower and direct his spell. If only he could find some way to get rid of the trace…

"Would my mother's wand work for this?"

Deciding to see if it would work, Harry grabbed his mothers wand, only to drop it when he felt the wand nearly shock his hand off. He stared at his mother's willow wand as it clattered to the table. Was it… was it rejecting him? But why? It had always accepted him before, yet now it refused to let him even hold it. He didn't understand.

"Tch."

Left with no other recourse, Harry realized that he would have to dispose of the potion without magic.

The cauldron was heavy as he lifted it into his arms and carried it out of his apartment, much heavier than a cauldron with a potion should be. Had the potions change in color and composition also changed its weight? Possibly. He would think on that later. First things first, he needed to get rid of this potion.

He walked down the well-lit hallway. His feet thudded along the beige carpet. White walls adorned with doors surrounded him on either side, each door numbered with triple digits. Being on the second floor, all of the numbers were over two-hundred. He didn't know any of his neighbors, nor did he care to know them. This was just a temporary residence until he moved on, and the people living in this complex were not worth knowing.

The wooden stairs creaked as he made his way down. It was an ominous sound. For a moment, he actually feared that the added weight of the cauldron may cause one of the stairs to break underneath him. That didn't happen, fortunately, though he did end up almost spilling some of the potion on one of the apartment's residence when she appeared before him from out of nowhere.

"Woah there, kiddo," the bubbly voice of a young woman said, as Harry forced his body to serve away from the woman in order to avoid landing on top of her. "You really should be more careful where you're walking, especially when you're lugging such a big, um, what is that thing anyway?"

Harry resisted the urge to scowl at the woman. Bubblegum pink hair that matched her personality descended from her head, long and shiny. Her eyes were blue and big, reminding him of bhambi. They sat upon a fair face with soft lips and a small nose. The knee-length dress that she wore flattered her feminine figure.

"It's a cauldron," he mumbled.

"Cauldon? You mean like some kind of magic playset?" The woman smiled. "Are you playing wizard or something?"

This time, he did scowl.

"Or something," he muttered irritably.

"That sounds like a lot of fun," the woman's cheerful voice grated on his nerves for some reason, "I remember back when I was younger, I used to pretend that I was a witch all the time. That was back when I believed that magic was real. Ah, I do miss those days."

He wondered how to get past this woman. He had no desire to listen to her, but she was also blocking his way down.

"Ah!" The woman gasped in surprise. "I completely forgot to introduce myself. My name is Victoria Jones. It's pleasure to meet you, um, what was your name again?"

Harry twitched. He hadn't told her his name.

"… Harry Evans."

"Harry Evans," the woman murmured, before smiling again, "Well, it is very nice to meet you, Mr. Evans. If you ever need anything, please don't hesitate to come to me. My apartment number is two-ten."

Harry almost twitched. His apartment was 212, which meant they were next door neighbors. Great. That was just what he needed. Was it some kind of karma that such an obnoxious woman would be living right next to him?

"I'll be sure to do that," Harry maintained his polite demeanor. He couldn't afford to let his annoyance get the best of him. Even if he didn't care one whit about this woman, he didn't want the kind of trouble that being on her bad side could cause.

"Good," Victoria Jones nodded, "In that case, I shall speak with you later. Also, and this is just a suggestion, you might want to do something about that smell. I don't know if it's you or that… stuff in your cauldron, but it absolutely reeks. Now then, I bid you a good day, Mr. Evans."

Harry watched warily as Victoria Jones slid past him and walked up the stairs. When she vanished from sight, he continued on his way, reaching the bottom and entering a small lobby. He lumbered past the small sitting area, where several chairs and a table with magazines on top sat.

The night greeted him upon vacating the apartment complex. He couldn't see many stars, but blamed that on the lights of London. It was always hard to see the night sky when you lived in the busier parts of a large city. Lamps and signs blazed all around him, their lights shining obnoxiously in his eyes, causing them intense irritation. His ability to see in the same spectrum as a Jaguar didn't help his poor eyes one bit. Cars drove down the street, engines rumbling. He ignored all of that as he walked ponderously toward the small alley on the side of his complex.

He welcomed the darkness of the alley. Few lights reached the small space that was barely wide enough to fit a car through. He could see much better in the dark than he could with all those lights and signs, and his eyes scanned the mostly empty space in search of a place to dump his ruined potion. A few pieces of trash lay strewn across the black top. A stray breeze caught a crumpled newspaper, lifting it in the air and blowing it out of the alley.

His eyes soon locked onto what he'd been looking for: a drain covered by a metal grating. He walked over to it and didn't hesitate to tilt the cauldon. The tar-like sludge oozed out of the cauldron slowly, viscous and putrid, bubbling as it released noxious fumes of dark purple and black. He grimaced as it splattered against the drain and stuck there, as if its glutinous consistency had become too thick to pass through such small spaces. It was fortunate that his magic, while incapable of vanishing the substance, could still affect it. He forced the liquid through the grating, pushing it down, until all that remained was a dark stain from which black vapor wafted off the metal like plumes of smoke from a fire.

"I don't think I'll be able to use this cauldron anymore," he muttered to himself as he looked into the cauldron. The entire thing had become a cesspool of black tar that continued clinging to the interior surface. Dark miasma rose from it, hissing and spitting, as if the last vestiges of the diary's vile presence had become infused with the cauldron. "I'll have to get rid of this somehow…"

A noise reached his ears, causing them to twitch. Footsteps, but not those of a human. He listened to the pitter patter of feet. Four of them. A cat? No. It sounded too heavy to be a cat? A dog, then.

His eyes panned the alley, searching. With his ability to see even in darkness, spotting the creature who'd made the noise wasn't difficult. It was a large dog. He judged it to be maybe four or five feet in length. He could see its ribcage poking out, a sign of malnutrition. It's black fur stood on end, unkempt and unclean, bristling like needles. A snarling muzzle filled with rows of sharp teeth were bared at him, and bright yellow eyes stared with the unusual gleam of human intelligence.

Despite how filthy and thin it had become, he recognized the animal easily.

"Padfoot."

The single word caused the dog to halt. It tilted its head, and Harry saw its eyes widen in a very un-dog-like way. Then it bolted out of the alley and down the street.

Harry gave chase. He didn't know what this man was doing here, but he had every intention of finding out.

* * *

><p><strong>So here is chapter two. We see a bit more of Blaize's mom, finally learn about what happened to Daphne, and I've granted some insight into Dumbledore's character. And, of course, we also see some Harry at the end. I know that Harry hasn't been featured very prominently yet, but that's mostly because I need to build up the other members of Harry's group. They become pretty important later on, and will eventually have their own moments to shine, so they need some development. That being said, the next chapter should have more Harry Potter.<strong>

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Please let me know what you think. Good? Bad? Is there anything in here that you would like to see? Be sure to let me know.**

**Later. ^_^**


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